Clint

                                    

                                          
The hot guy was standing right in front of you. He grinned at you, standing across the small clearing. You both had guns in your hands, fully loaded and ready to go.
                          
The moment the horn sounded, you ran to hide behind the tree whilst all of your friends got shot. You watched in slight horror as there was splatter everywhere. Paint splatter.
                          
Whose idea had this been again? Oh right. Yours.
                          
"Come out, come out wherever you are," you heard. Someone had a nice voice.
                          
You took a peep at who it was and didn't get back behind the tree in time. You got hit on the shoulder. Some of the paint splattered on your face. You wiped it off with your sleeve before loading, and shooting at that stupid man who'd hit you on your birthday. You got him.
                          
You heard a chuckle and quickly shot again. That chuckle turned into a groan. Hopefully you'd hit somewhere in between his legs. Nice.
                          
You ran to get to the next tree. You needed to capture the flag that you could see just a few metres away from you. You ran for it until you were tripped and shot at. Ouch.
                          
You shot back, got up and ran. He kept following you, shooting at your feet. You grit your teeth. You knew the rules. No shooting in the face. You honestly couldn't care much about the rules. You aimed high, and shot.
                          
He groaned before you heard a lot of spitting. You were sure you'd gotten paint in his mouth. You hoped you had. Get that stupid perfect grin off his face. Wait. What?
                          
You looked back, but tripped. That was stupid. You groaned, getting back up and running.
                          
You got within inches of the flag when you got shot in the arm. "Ouch!" you said, almost cussing. Then you got shot again.
                          
The hot guy you'd seen and shot, was standing right there. Turns out you missed his face, but got his chest. That was a little disappointing. But at least you'd gotten him where it hurts most.
                          
You held your gun up, taking a step back. He shot your foot again.
                          
"Ow! What is your problem?!" You demanded.
                          
His eyes widened. "What's my problem? What's yours?!"
                          
You took a step back and he shot your foot - again!
                          
"Stop!"
                          
He raised an eyebrow. "You do realise that his is paintball... Right?"
                          
You shot him where it hurts - again - and ran and grabbed the flag. You grinned. "I win."

                          
**
                          
When you'd gotten clean and redressed, you saw him sitting at the cafe. You walked right past him only to have your hand taken.
                          
"Would you like to go for coffee with me?"
                          
You rolled your eyes. "After you shot me?"
                          
"Well... To be fair... You shot me too. And I assure you mine hurt a lot more."
                          
You stifled a giggle. "Ok. Fine. Coffee."


                          
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